The First and Last Game
by Akele
Summary: The Winchesters claim their father never took them to a baseball game, but Castiel remembers differently... rated T for a teensy bit of fighting and language. Kind of fluffy, and I guess sorta AU.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Supernatural! If I did, Castiel wouldn't have gone AWOL...**

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><p>It was one of those rare, relatively calm days that carried with it a surprisingly casual conversation between an angel and a human. As it was, Castiel and Dean Winchester were standing in Bobby Singer's kitchen, having a somewhat normal talk about the hunter's illegitimate half-brother's relationship to John Winchester. It had stemmed off from a talk about how normal human families functioned, and Dean did not take too well to the topic change. Adam was a sore subject for everyone. Still, after a long drink from his beer bottle, the older Winchester answered:<p>

"Dad tried to give the kid a 'normal' life – even took him to a couple of baseball games, which is more than he ever could do for Sammy and me."

A memory from very long ago popped into the angel's mind, prompting him to speak almost automatically. "You're wrong."

Dean frowned before attempting to correct himself. "I mean, I know he did all he could for what kind of life we were given, even if it was messed up, and I don't blame him for that, but –."

"No, not that," Cas interrupted. His blank blue eyes held a light that could have been either confusion or curiosity and he looked as though he had something to say, yet when his human friend gestured for him to elaborate he remained silent.

Before Dean could question Castiel's comment, Sam and Bobby returned with tidings of a new hunt. That was the end of their talk, and the angel vanished after telling the Winchesters to call him if they needed help. As the three hunters delved into exciting pre-hunt research, all thoughts about the conversation were shoved out of sight inside the elder Winchester's mind, never to be re-examined until a much later date.

While the hunters did what they did best, Cas visited a heaven he did not typically wander in. It was a small, homemade baseball field; the kind you would find elementary students playing on during recess. This particular heaven belonged to a famous baseball player whose fondest memories were playing the game he loved on his very first field. The sun shone bright enough not to cause a glare, birds sang beautifully encouraging songs, and the breeze was just enough to be pleasant but not interfere with the trajectory of the ball. As Castiel situated himself on the rickety wooden bleachers, watching the young man practice, he reflected on how peaceful the heaven was – and how perfect it was for remembering.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: I really hope this shows up correctly... I forgot to put an author's note in the prologue, so here's one now! This is my first fic, so please be gentle... flames will be accepted as constructive criticism. Enjoy =)**

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Supernatural! If I did, Castiel wouldn't have gone AWOL...**

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><p><em>September 26<em>_th__, 1983_

It was a sweltering day at Wrigley Field made all the hotter by the hundreds of fans packed in to watch the Cubs verse the Phillies. The season had not been going too well for the Chicago baseball team and everyone was eager to see them beat the seemingly unstoppable Philadelphia Phillies. Only one man in the crowd of hundreds actually knew what the end result of the day's game was going to be. However, that was not why he wasn't interested in watching the sport. No, Castiel was there on assignment.

The angel had been told that there was time-displacement activity sensed in the area surrounding Wrigley Field and he had been the only angel available on such short notice. At least, that was what his superiors had told him. Still, ever faithful, Castiel acted immediately and found himself a temporary vessel (a man in the middle of a sniffing fit in the stadium's bathroom) and proceeded to scout out the field's premises.

The initial twenty searches turned up nothing, but that was the thing with time travel, it made ripples that could be sensed hours before the traveler actually arrived. With that in mind, Cas found himself an empty seat behind a young family and waited for the intruder to show. It wasn't long before the angel found himself becoming restless, if that was the right word. Soon, he opted into multitasking – observing the humans around him while part of his consciousness continued to search the building.

Of all the hundreds of people filling the seats of the stadium, Castiel found himself most drawn to the very humans sitting in front of him. Any other normal person would have considered the fact pure coincidence, but being an angel, Cas knew there was no such thing as coincidence. Someone in the family before him must have a higher purpose that he had yet to be made aware of. Perhaps that was why Heaven had chosen to pay so much attention to a possible time traveler.

Suddenly the stadium echoed with cheers as a Cub player got a decent hit. An infant, sitting on his mother's lap in the seat in front of Castiel's, gave a startled jump which resulted in his pacifier dropping to the ground. The baby responded almost instantly by bursting into tears, but before the child's parents could react, a young boy jumped down from his seat and retrieved the binky, wiping it off with his shirt before handing it back to the infant. The mother smiled and thanked her son (Castiel could sense their kinship) and placed the pacifier into the now content child's mouth. The older boy smiled proudly for helping his little brother.

A dark haired man stood from the seat beside the boy and beckoned for him to follow. "Come on, Dean. Wanna get some popcorn?"

The helpful brother, Dean, beamed at the suggestion. He nodded eagerly and took his father's hand. Castiel watched, not noticing his own feeling of longing as the two squeezed their way into the aisle towards a popcorn stand.

And that was when he felt it. It was like another, bigger rock had been thrown into a pond creating more and much larger ripples. Castiel knew immediately that trouble had arrived.

He stood and somehow managed to get past a thick throng of people until he was standing by a colorful striped vendor. Of course, with a mere thought he could have appeared before the intruder, but there was something scrambling his senses. Everything seemed slightly unclear and he walked with a small stumble as if he was off balance. Something had to have been wrong with his vessel.

Castiel put a hand against the nearest column to support himself as he looked around. It didn't take long at all for him to notice the boy's father purchasing a bag of popcorn, yet the boy wasn't with him. In fact, the father didn't even appear to know of his son's absence. Perhaps the child had been sent back to his mother, but Castiel's instinct told him otherwise.

The crowd roared with a disapproving jeer, but there was another sound that only the angel could hear through all the shouts – a child screaming, crying out for help not too far away. Cas was unsure if it had anything to do with why he was there, but he still felt inclined to help. After all, it would not be very angelic of him to not assist a defenseless child. With that thought, he forced himself to take a sturdy step away from the column and he vanished.

_What Castiel had not seen was how John Winchester had finally noticed Dean had gone missing, and the distraught father had turned from the vendor, calling out his son's name. A stroke of luck, whether good or bad, had brought the Winchester's attention towards the angel just for a split second, but long enough to see the man disappear before his very eyes. However, a group of people quickly blocked his view and John returned to searching for his lost son. It would be years before he thought back to that moment and its vanishing man._

After a few nanoseconds traversing time and space, Castiel arrived in what appeared to be a wide hallway leading to the stadium's maintenance supply storage. The corridor was poorly lit, but the angel had little trouble seeing as he decided to rely upon his true vision rather than the limited sight of his vessel. Concrete walls and floor gave the place a very bleak look, and there was energy in the air that radiated demonic influence. His vessel reacted with an involuntary shiver that Castiel had not been expecting. Other than the shiver, his temporary human form had luckily recovered from whatever it was that had been previously plaguing it, which was very welcomed because with how the thick air felt, a fight was almost evident.

Why was there a demon where he had sensed the lost child to be? It could have been entirely possible that the demon was the time-traveling intruder, but Castiel had never known demons to have that ability; and even if it was, what would a demon want with a boy who could have been no more than four years of age?

A frightened whimper drew the angel's attention. Whatever the answer, it seemed as though he would soon find out.

Castiel saved himself the walk down the passageway and instead reappeared before an open doorway that led into a cluttered tool room. A woman knelt with her back to him, her hand clamped tightly over the boy's mouth to silence the child. In the instant it took for Cas to register the demon's true form (which shone with a hideous dark light through the woman's body), the demon stood and turned to face him. A wicked grin stretched across her thin lips and her eyes blackened.

"Oh, it just had to be you," she sneered.

"Release the boy," Castiel commanded, ignoring the demon's obvious attempt to confuse him with her riddled greeting.

The demon snatched the boy's forearm and hauled him to his feet. Her eyes glared down at him as if he were the most repulsive thing in the world then, with an amused laugh, she looked back at the angel. "Trust me when I say that I'd be doing us both a favor by destroying this insignificant brat."

"If he is truly as insignificant as you say, then you would have no reason to harm him," Castiel retorted unthinkingly. "Now release him."

A muted whine drew Castiel's attention to the child (Dean, he recalled). Despite the situation, Dean was not crying. His eyes brimmed with tears that threatened to spill over at any second, but for the moment the child remained strong and Cas could sense the sturdy nature of his soul. Castiel tried extending a calming presence to reassure the boy, but the demon suppressed his attempt with a surprisingly strong dark aura of her own.

"Castiel, you don't understand," she began in an almost pleading tone. "This _child_ will one day start the _Apocalypse_. Just think about it for a minute. The lives of six billion people could be saved by the death of one tiny boy!"

How had she known who he was? Did she know of him from the future? Obviously, since Castiel could sense that was where she was from. A demon that had somehow found her way back through time… so then was it possible that what she said about the child, Dean, and the Apocalypse true? If so, he could…

Castiel instantly crushed his thoughts then set fire to their dust. An angel could not be allowed to think such things. Even if what the demon before him spoke was the truth, he could not take any actions to prevent an occurrence that had already come to pass. Heaven had sent him to Earth with orders to annihilate any threat that came from this time disturbance. The demon was clearly a threat, there for it was time to do his job.

"Release him," the threat was clear in his voice as he spoke; the time for talking was over. "Now."

The woman scowled, her black eyes shimmering with hatred. "You know what? This would be the perfect time to take care of another thing on my to-do list…" Castiel tensed as he watched the demon step in front Dean. She stood tall and rolled her neck, resulting in a sickening pop before she slowly turned her gaze onto the angel once more.

In the blink of an eye she was on him, grabbing a fist full of his shirt to hold him still while she reared another curled hand back to strike. Luckily, Castiel had been anticipating such a move. Right as the demon struck at him, he reached up and grabbed her wrist then swiftly twisted out of her grasp. She spun with him; and when their bizarre dance had stopped, Cas was behind her, holding the woman's arm tightly pinned against her back.

Castiel wasted no time in placing his palm against the possessed human's head to exorcise the demon. However, he had been expecting a flare of light when there was clearly nothing happening. Confused, Cas withdrew his hand and gave his captive a puzzled look. The demon laughed loudly as if something in the current situation was extremely amusing. Perhaps to her it was.

"Sorry, choir boy," she barked. "I'm afraid I'm out of your time zone."

There was a dull thump that Castiel only realized was him being hit as he stumbled against a nearby shelf. The demon made a move to snatch up the child, but Cas had recovered and quickly intercepted her. He grabbed her by both her arms and soundlessly threw her into another shelf, sending metal tools scattering across the concrete floor.

Castiel turned to the boy, who was standing by the wall looking terrified, and shouted one simple command:

"Run!"

But Dean remained rooted where he stood, staring wide eyed at the angel as if everything were a dream – a really bad dream.

Before Cas could repeat his order and consider transporting the boy to safety himself, a pair of strong hands snatched him from the floor. Suddenly he was pinned against the wall and looking straight into the depthless black eyes of the demon. She smiled at his mildly astonished expression and slowly curled one hand around his neck, digging her nails into his vessel's flesh until she drew blood. Her lips parted in barely a whisper, but the words she spoke screamed themselves inside of Castiel's mind.

He could feel his very essence being forced some place else. No matter how much he tried to resist, his struggle would only be met with an agonizing reminder of how he was slipping. The words continued to pull and pull, the demon's voice growing louder and louder until he could fight no longer…

Suddenly a blinding light filled his vision, and Castiel thought he had been banished. But when the lights had vanished from his sight, he noticed the smoldering corpse of the human woman lying crumbled on the floor. The stench of sulfur was strong in the air, burning his nose. He could tell that the demon inside of the poor woman had been destroyed, yet who had been the one to do so?

"Unfortunately for you, our 'time zones' match up perfectly," a rough voice stated rather bluntly.

The voice belonged to a dark haired man in his late thirties dressed in a suit and, oddly enough, a tan trench coat. He stood between the boy and the dead woman, his blue eyes watching Castiel as if he were waiting for the angel to react in some way. And there was a perfectly good reason as to why Castiel should react in at least some way because the Grace emanating from the man was very familiar. Not only was the mysterious human actually an angel, but he was an angel Castiel knew all too well.

Specifically, the angel was him.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: I know the ending is a bit suckish, but I wanted to go ahead and get this posted so I'd have more time to work on my other SPN fic. In case any of you are wondering, it's another Castiel story because I love my angel. Also, sorry for the fic being so short. I'm not the best at finishing long stories... Please R&R for Castiel's sake!**

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Supernatural! If I did, Misha Collins would still be a season regular...**

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><p>Castiel was still sitting on the rough bleachers of the baseball star's heaven. His eyes watched the young man throw pitches to another boy, but his sight was somewhere, or rather <em>when<em> else.

A voice drew him from his reverie. It was quiet at first and could have been mistaken for being polite if Castiel hadn't known who it belonged to. Still, he did not answer the summons immediately. He was unsure why, but he chose to wait until the voice was all but ordering him to show himself. Only then did he force himself away from his comfortable sanctuary and to the old, beaten down house in Sioux Falls.

"Cas, come on!" Dean shouted angrily to the ceiling. "Get your feathered ass down here! It's an emergency!"

Sam Winchester stood bent over Bobby's desk, studying a map while Bobby himself readied what appeared to be a tracking spell. Of course, its magic could only be worked by an angel, so Castiel concluded that the old hunter was getting things ready for him. He appreciated the sentiment, but it was going to be unnecessary.

Castiel "appeared" beside Dean, frowning disapprovingly at the man's choice of words. "Dean, I –."

"I don't wanna hear about how you don't have feathers down there, Cas," Dean interrupted. He had gotten past being surprised by his angel friend's random appearances long ago. "We've got a problem."

"So I've heard."

Castiel had not meant for the comment to sound rude or too blunt, but the look his human friend gave him suggested it hadn't come out correctly. Before he could correct himself, Sam spoke up, intending to stop an argument before one started.

"We were just hunting a demon," the youngest Winchester explained, "But it wasn't an ordinary demon. Turns out it had discovered an ancient spell that requires a lot of blood sacrifices, which is what got our attention…"

Bobby cut in, drawing Cas's interest. "Then these idjits went and got themselves trapped, and that demon Houdini'd itself across time!" The old drunk shot both the brothers a reprimanding look, which both of them shied away from.

Castiel frowned and turned his attention back to the Winchesters. "What makes you think it traveled to another time?"

"She threatened Dean," Sam clarified.

"She said something about killing me in my crib in order to stop the Apocalypse. What I don't get is why a _demon_ would wanna stop Hell on Earth. I mean, isn't that supposed to be paradise for them?"

"Not necessarily…" Castiel's brows furrowed in thought. "Did you destroy all evidence of the spell?"

Bobby held up a blood spattered scroll. "This is all that's left of it."

Cas spoke a word in Enochian and suddenly the scroll was burning. Surprised, Bobby dropped the paper into the bowl sitting on his desk where it smoldered into ash.

Dean gaped at the angel. "What the hell, Cas?"

"We cannot risk such a dangerous spell getting in the hands of the enemy."

"All right, fair enough," Sam agreed, ever the peacemaker. "Now we need your help. Can you find where the demon went and take us there to stop her?"

Castiel breathed out heavily through his nose, the closest to an actual sigh the angel normally got. "I will take care of it," he stated firmly.

"What do you mean you'll take care of it?" Dean asked. Castiel could sense his friend's patience wearing thin.

"I will find the demon and take care of her myself. Don't worry, Dean. I won't let her harm you."

The eldest Winchester began to protest, but Castiel was not about to give him the chance. Before Dean could speak a word, the angel had vanished from the library. All three hunters stood, frustrated and concerned, but at the same time placing their faith in their angel.

Time traveling took much of his strength, but when he arrived in Chicago, 1983, Castiel was pleased to discover not only had he appeared in the right room, but he had just enough energy to smite the demon threatening Dean – after that came the task of explaining the situation to his past self, although in truth Castiel had no plans of telling him very much of anything.

"You should go now," future Castiel eventually suggested. His tone remained almost monotonous and his gaze never wavered from his younger self.

The younger angel glanced over at the child, who had hidden behind a work bench during Castiel's fight with the demon.

"The boy," he began after a moment of consideration, "Will he truly one day bring on the Apocalypse?"

There was a silence as both angels' eyes met. The elder's expression was nearly impossible to read as he thought over the right response. Though perhaps he was just trying to remember how he had responded. When it seemed the two would be frozen eternally staring at one another, the Castiel from the future finally spoke.

"Someday this boy will be very important to Heaven and to you. What he will do is nothing compared to the good deeds he is capable of." Castiel turned and looked at Dean, feeling a pain of emotion at the sight of his cowering young friend. When he looked back to his other self, though, not a single trace of emotion could be seen. "Report back to your superiors about what has happened here, but leave out any mention of Dean."

Of course, it was highly likely that someone in Heaven knew about Dean's role in the Apocalypse, but Castiel did not want to take the chance of having the news cause a rebellion any earlier. His younger self appeared to feel the same and nodded his agreement. Castiel from 1983 gave the frightened child in the corner one last look before disappearing in a flutter of unseen wings. He would return his vessel to his home once he had made his report.

The remaining Castiel gave the fallen woman a remorseful look and then walked over to Dean. The poor boy had his face buried in his knees and his hands clamped tightly over his ears. For a brief moment, Castiel was reminded of a saying he had heard from the Winchester brothers. "_See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil_". Frowning, the angel knelt beside the troubled child and allowed a feeling of calmness and safety to fill the boy's soul.

After a minute or two, Dean cautiously lifted his head and looked at Castiel. He frowned curiously, noticing how the strange man before him seemed to glow ever so slightly.

"There's no need to be afraid," Cas assured. "You are safe now."

"Who… who're you?"

Castiel allowed himself a small, warm smile. "A friend. Would you like me to take you to your father?"

Dean nodded eagerly and Castiel held out a hand for him to take. The young Winchester looked between the hand and the man it belonged to, as if trying to decide if he were trustworthy; but in the end Dean took the stranger's hand. Castiel gently grasped the boy's hand and helped the child to his feet, expecting him to let go once he was standing. To the angel's somewhat surprise, Dean continued to hold on.

Hand in hand, Castiel led the boy from the maintenance area back out to the crowds of Wrigley Field. No one paid the two any mind as they stood – an oddly dressed man watching the humans carefully as they passed, and a four year old almost excitedly searching the throng of people for his father. All the while, Dean kept a tight grip on Castiel's hand, feeling completely at ease with the angel.

"I see him!" Dean shouted suddenly, pulling on Cas's hand and pointing in one direction. "He's over there!"

Castiel followed Dean's finger and instantly spotted John Winchester, still frantically searching for his son. With his angel sight he found Mary tending to a fussy Sam as the baseball game neared its end. Cas had to admit that he felt a bit hesitant allowing Dean to return back to his life, only to have his mother murdered in a few months time. A part of the angel wanted to take his young friend safe so that he was never in any danger, but another, bigger part of him knew that that was wrong. In the end, Castiel made what he felt was the right choice and knelt beside Dean to say his goodbyes.

"Before you go back," he began, "Could you promise me something?"

Dean met the angel's serious gaze unflinchingly and waited curiously for him to continue.

"You must promise that you won't tell your mother or your father of what happened. In return, I promise that you will not have any bad dreams, and that mean woman will never bother you again."

"Okay!" Dean happily agreed, the seriousness of what had happened escaping his young mind. Smiling brightly, he held his now free hand out in front of Castiel. It was closed in a fist with only a small pinky straightened out.

Luckily, Cas had spent enough time with his Winchesters that he recognized the gesture. He gently locked his own pinky around Dean's, which prompted a wide grin from the boy. Castiel smiled back, feeling that it was appropriate, and patted young Dean on the head. It seemed like a harmlessly affectionate action, but the angel had really done so in order to wipe the child's memory of the entire day. When Dean woke up the next morning, he would be unable to recall his baseball adventure.

"Go to your father," Castiel said, and Dean nodded.

"Bye, mister!"

The angel stood as the boy ran towards his father. Dean called out to the man, and the smile that appeared on John's face reassured Castiel that he had done the right thing. Dean's father scooped him up in mid run and hugged him, murmuring half-hearted scolds. The boy hugged his father back then turned around in his arms to wave goodbye to Castiel. John looked where his son was waving only to no one.

But Castiel remained standing where he had been, invisible to the human eye now. He did not attempt to suppress the amusement he felt when Dean waved at him. Since Dean was only four, he could see Castiel's Grace shining through his vessel. Soon even that was gone as Castiel left back to his own time, leaving John and Dean Winchester to return to the rest of their family and enjoy their time together. He knew John would question Dean about what had happened, but he also knew Dean would not speak a word of it. Time was how it should be – John did not discover the existence of demons before he was meant to, and Dean forgot his father had ever taken him to a baseball game.

Yes, everything was as it should be.


End file.
